Lost Chance
by liliaeth
Summary: Angel's coping with the events of Chosen(slash)


Title: Lost Chance  
  
Author: Lore  
  
Rating: R(slash)  
  
Summary: Angel ponders on Spike and lost opportunities after Chosen  
  
Disclaimer:I don't own, please don't sue (not that I have anything  
  
to take, and you can't have my dogs anyway so...)  
  
Notes: just a thought on Angel's reaction to Spike's death  
  
Warning: many Angelus/William flashbacks and consequences of those,  
  
and considering they're both vampires... thus not suited for kiddie-  
  
eyes(or to put it more clearly, rape, abuse bla bla bla...)  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Angel sat in the sunlight, the curtains wide open, light flooding through the special glass. Safe, for the first time he could sit in the light without fear of the light of day. A sign of a redemption as fake as his soul's.  
  
"I didn't even talk to him. Didn't ask her... tell her... I wasn't even interested in seeing him. Well I might have wanted to rip him apart, but the rest.I didn't think it even mattered to me."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
Angel turned his chair to him, facing his guest at last.  
  
"Spike's dead."  
  
"So?" Angel wanted to kill him, use that pillow again, and smother the air right out of the offensive lips. Yet he couldn't blame him either. Why should they care about yet another vampire living, well unliving, or dying? Just a vamp, just his blood, his offspring.  
  
"Wesley... you've seen me without a soul now. Do you think... would I ever have gotten a soul freely? I loved Connor, I loved Buffy... yet I ...Angelus... never even considered getting my soul back for any of them."  
  
"Soulless vampires can't love Angel."  
  
Angel broke out laughing, shattering the silence with burst responding to the utter ridiculousness of that statement. "Can't they? Spike, he just died, saving the world for Buffy. He got his soul back for Buffy. But then Spike... he always was different. Always my stubborn, rebellious boy. Too ignorant and stupid to realize he shouldn't be..."  
  
Wesley stared at him twitching uneasily from one foot to the other. "Angel, what are you saying?"  
  
"Spike got a soul and I didn't even know. I felt him slip away from me while I was in the sea and I didn't even know what it was that I'd felt."  
  
The Brit looked worried.  
  
"I knew something was wrong, something... and when I got to Sunnydale I was just so giddy, feeling it returned and then I kissed Buffy." . and I thought it was her, he added in his mind.  
  
"I could smell him on her, subtle, unmistakable." Angel threw the letter- opener on the desk.  
  
"God, I was jealous and thinking back on it, I'm not sure who I was jealous of, him or her." Wesley took a step closer. "And then she told me he had a soul and it all just came out, that whole sense of having yet another thing stolen from me... I could have stuck with her, made her take me to him, visit him... I just left."  
  
Angel barely even noticed that Wesley had sat down in front of him. He hated talking, but now he couldn't stop himself from letting it all out. "It's just so Spike. Doing something that I did and doing it better. He always has to try and one up me. Can't just have a fuck, he has to love. Can't just kill and maim, no, he has to have Slayers. Can't just fall for Buffy, has to get his soul for her." He couldn't face Wes, couldn't...  
  
"I created him you know, made him ..."  
  
"Wasn't Drusilla his sire?"  
  
"She just turned him, he was her toy for a few days. Then he was his usual spoiled self and... I had to take over."  
  
****  
  
Drusilla and her boy had been gone for two days now. Up to visit the family. Angelus had stood waiting, gone hunting, stood waiting again... and they still weren't back. If that boy had gotten Dru hurt. His anger flashed even worse when she finally entered. Dru was pouting.  
  
"Where is he?" And if they got lucky the young fledge had gotten himself staked or been in the sun too long. That would rid them of the burden.  
  
"My William's with his mommy, she said nasty words to him and he ran off. He wanted her to join our happy family. She was my granddaughter but she was naughty. I didn't like her. My William wouldn't let me taste her."  
  
Angelus rage increased, the boy had dared to sire without his permission, without asking him first and Drusilla had let him? "Go to the basement now. Lock yourself up. I will come for you when I feel like it." Drusilla didn't hesitate to follow his orders and Angel just stood there for a second before following the trace that she'd left behind. If he got his hands on that boy...  
  
When he finally found him, William was sitting at the waterfront, staring at the river. He was soaked from head to toe. The miserable excuse for a fledgling was actually crying. As if he were a human. Angelus growled, pulling the young vampire's attention. He noticed how the boy tried to wipe his tears, desperate to hide them from him.  
  
"Come." a single command uttered as sire. William didn't even jump up as he should have.  
  
He'd been sired a week ago, and still he didn't know the rules, had Drusilla taught him nothing?  
  
Angelus moved before the boy could even blink, grabbing him, forcing his fangs in the fledges throat, nearly completely draining him and pulling every last drop of Drusilla's essence out of him.  
  
If she couldn't take responsibility, it was up to him to protect the family. The boy just lay there; he hesitated. He wasn't sure what he'd planned; his anger left him with every exquisite drop he took in. He'd planned to just leave the boy a minion; if that still hadn't done the trick, he could have just staked him. But as he tasted him he could feel what had pulled Drusilla to the boy, his hunger for life, for feelings. It woke something in him that had slept for years. Something frightening.  
  
The boy was too drained to speak, as close to death as he'd been only once before. It probably saved his unlife as Angelus grabbed his head, forcing his fangs on his own chest, making the boy drink him. choosing him.  
  
****  
  
Wes was still waiting for him to continue. But some things were too ... personal.  
  
"I'm sorry Angel."  
  
Angel closed his eyes for a second. "It's like there's a hole inside of me, Wes. As if some part of me is just gone. It's not the first time I've felt it but.... Even Penn, losing him. Spike was the first like me, the first that knew. and I didn't even talk to him" And he's still just a vampire to you.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
William woke up in the mud, feeling the dirt mixing with his blood  
  
William woke up in the mud, feeling the dirt mixing with his blood. Angelus smiled as he saw the boy's eyes turn, desperately looking for Dru, he guessed. Knowing that he'd effectively cut those strands between them, remixing them with his own. The boy seemed lost, utterly lost, even as their eyes met and Angelus just waited, dry and clean on the stone walls surrounding the riverbanks, waiting for him to come before him.  
  
"Where's Dru?"  
  
Angelus didn't answer. He didn't have to. With perfect magnanimity he threw the boy a handkerchief, allowing him to clean the dirt from blood, tears and mud that covered his face. Those deep blue eyes stared at him, still defiant and Angelus couldn't wait to taste him over and over again. No, he'd break the boy, he always eventually did, but until then, this would be a glorious way to spend his time. And the boy was his, all his.  
  
*****  
  
"I need a drink."  
  
Angel got up before Wesley could say anything. The former watcher followed his lead. In the end they didn't even get far. Angel wasn't even sure where he wanted to be. They ended up in a simple late-night diner. Angel got a cup of coffee. Wes took a full meal.  
  
Angel didn't even talk at first. His eyes fell on the family in front of him: Mom, dad, two kids; one blond, one brunette. Wes followed his eyes. "So he was like your son then?"  
  
If Angel had needed to breathe, he would have choked on his coffee. "Not like Connor, but in a loving-him-like-something-that-came-from-you way." Angel snorted. Wesley poked his food with his fork, thinking a bit, still waiting for an answer. "I never loved Spike, Wesley. Not as humans see it at least." Wesley put down his food. "William, Drusilla, ... they were an obsession. An entertainment or possession. They were mine. And no one could touch them but me. Or Darla. But then, she owned me as much as I owned Spike and Dru."  
  
"So not a happy family then?"  
  
Angel grumbled. "Far from it."  
  
They both stayed silent, waiting for the other to talk first. Angel gave in.  
  
*****  
  
William had mercifully kept quiet on their way home. Angelus had no intention to let the boy get too insolent, but he preferred getting home first. After all, he still had Drusilla to deal with.  
  
"Go to your room, boy. I need to punish Drusilla for allowing you to sire an offspring without my approval. I shall deal with you afterward."  
  
"You can't. It was my fault."  
  
Angelus fist hit the boys nose, breaking it. "I said upstairs." William still didn't move, didn't even shake. Still defiant. "Now, before I kill her for forgetting to teach you obedience." And as he let all his rage show in his glare, the boy finally got the message and moved up the stairs, not even coming down as Drusilla's screams grew louder, for she knew how much her daddy loved to hear her sing for him.  
  
The sun had come up by the time he was finished and Drusilla hung limply in her chains. He let her go, not even catching her as she dropped to the floor. Kneeling next to her for one second to drop a kiss on her forehead.  
  
"Daddy loves you." Then he started up the stairs.  
  
*****  
  
"Daddy loves you honey, but you have to eat your vegetables."  
  
"I don't wanna."  
  
// I don't want to drain that guy, he smells funny."//  
  
"I paid for that meal son, so you're damn well going to eat it."  
  
//"I dragged him all the way from Whitechappel for you, so you're damn well gonna eat him."//  
  
Angel barely restrained himself as the man stood up, glaring at his son. Something was wrong, smelt wrong. The wife stood to attempt to calm her husband down.  
  
//"But he smells like fish." And he'd grabbed William's neck, forcing the boy's teeth in the fat greasy neck of his meal. Smearing the blood on his lips, nose, drowning him into it.//  
  
The man grabbed the boy, forcing the hamburger in his face. Nearly choking him.  
  
"What are you doing?!" The woman asked shrilly, reaching over to pull her husband's hands away from their son's throat.  
  
"He won't listen. Won't do as he's told."  
  
The little girl started yammering, not making much sense and the woman just sat back, letting her husband do what he needed too and the boy stared in shock when his defender left him at his father's mercy.  
  
Wesley jumped up, ready to intervene.  
  
//"He's trouble Darla. If I don't stop it now, he'll destroy us all." And she just nodded, leaving him to beat the boy into submission, ignoring the plea in the boy's eyes, begging for escape.//  
  
Angel stared, feeling as though his heart was being clawed from his chest.  
  
And the man grabbed the boy, pulling him on the table, ignoring all that were watching him, as his hands hit the boy. Hitting him...  
  
//Over and over again, lashing at him with hands and claws and belt. Tearing his clothes from his body, leaving angry gashes on his skin.//  
  
Angel was too stunned to move as Wesley pulled the father away, shoving him down, the boy cowering under the table. He barely noticed the yellow eyes gleaming in the shadows, but when he did, they faded away and sanity returned to them all with Wes still hitting the man, anger lashing out of his pores. Angel barely managed to drag him away, almost breathing as he realized how far it had gone and what it could have come to.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It had taken every bit of self-restraint to stay calm as he'd  
  
dragged Wesley out of the diner before the cops noticed them. When  
  
they left the father had been sporting several bruises, and a  
  
nosebleed. The mother was trying to console her son in the corner,  
  
arguing with the cops that wanted to take him away. Angel didn't  
  
even have a clue where the little girl had gone too. Right now,  
  
Wesley was fuming in his chair, holding an ice bag to his temple.  
  
Angel had been forced to hit him to knock him out.  
  
"It wasn't all the father's fault, Wes. There was a demon."  
  
"Isn't there always?" Like the demon in Wesley's father, a very  
  
human demon of anger and abuse.  
  
"I'm not kidding, Wesley. That scene... it didn't start naturally."  
  
He hesitated a second. "It felt as if someone dragged a memory out  
  
of my head and had it replayed right in front of me."  
  
"Oh? So you have some bad memories coming up and a guy starts  
  
beating up his son? Humans don't need demons to do evil, Angel."  
  
"There was a demon." Angel grabbed a drink, trying not to remember  
  
anything else, scared of what would happen if he did, if the demon  
  
had followed him here. There were too many nightmare scenario's  
  
running through his head to even consider that option.  
  
"You're not the centre of the world, Angel. Not everything is your  
  
fault."  
  
"This was. The feel of it, the scent, the worlds, the actions...  
  
all of it. If you hadn't stopped that man...what he would have done,  
  
he'd never have forgiven himself for."  
  
Wesley seemed almost oddly relieved at the possibility. So was  
  
Angel, for that matter. Demons they could fight: they could struggle  
  
with them and take them out; the other kind of monsters, they could  
  
not. And he had to stop thinking of Spike.  
  
Like now.  
  
*****  
  
Angelus woke up, feeling the empty space beside him. William had  
  
left the room, probably to clean himself up. His tongue brushed past  
  
his lips, tasting the last trace of William's blood still there.  
  
The boy had given good fight when he realized what was going to  
  
happen, but in the end he'd submitted, bowed down his head and  
  
begged for Angelus to take him.  
  
He got up, tracking him; he'd gone downstairs. He could see him  
  
there, Drusilla was still on the wet floor, now covered with a  
  
blanket, her head on William's lap.  
  
William was singing to her, a low-beat lullaby and Dru seemed to be  
  
almost spinning.  
  
He stayed in the shadows, waiting. But nothing happened. So sweet.  
  
Disgust poured out from that thought.  
  
"Lookie here at the nanny."  
  
William glanced up, still holding on to Drusilla. There was a  
  
righteousness to his anger, as if he were about to protect the  
  
lady's honour. Stupid boy, did he really think that any rights they  
  
had weren't given to them by their sire? Did he think that he could  
  
do anything to stop him if he felt like doing it again? Drusilla  
  
always bled so beautifully.  
  
No. Drusilla understood, taking her sweet boy's hand, holding him.  
  
It was strange, really; he'd seen the fledgling rip apart a family  
  
on his first night out, plant his fangs in a little girl's throat  
  
and drain the father only halfway so he could see his wife and  
  
children killed in front of him.  
  
Yet here at home, there was nothing of that brutal ferocity that  
  
characterized young William outside. Here, with Drusilla, he was  
  
just a white knight for his dark princess. Two sides to a monster  
  
and so pretty when he was angry. Angelus merely smiled.  
  
*****  
  
Angel stared as he noticed the anger in Gunn's eyes as he looked  
  
their way, Gunn holding on to Fred who was softly crying. He hadn't  
  
said a word, yet he knew they felt his disgust, and Fred had  
  
returned to her former boyfriend's arms for comfort almost as a  
  
matter of course. Her trembling in fear, him in rage.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
William didn't even wince in pain as Angelus tugged at his curls, so  
  
soft under his touch, their hold deceptively strong even as he came  
  
under the boy's tongue. "Again." And the fledgling was all too happy  
  
to comply.  
  
It had taken him weeks, no, months to get there, but by now the boy  
  
was literally begging for the feel of his cock. It was only the  
  
first part of his training and though William obeyed, Angelus knew  
  
he was far from broken. Even as he willingly spread his legs, even  
  
as his fingers lingered on his sire's nippples, even as his tongue  
  
touched every part that Angelus wanted him to... hell, even as he  
  
bared his neck at the merest hint of a command, it still wasn't  
  
enough.  
  
He couldn't help but stare at William as he sat there in the door,  
  
far enough in the shadows to be safe--especially so early in the day-  
  
-yet close enough to the brink in order to see the sunlight. Angelus  
  
could feel the boys hunger for more of it, for crossing that line  
  
and pulled him in. Berating him for the risk he'd taken, even as  
  
Williams eyes stayed fixed to the window. Still hungry for something  
  
beside his sire, for something more. He hated the way that William  
  
would gently pull Drusilla in their bed, the way he'd make her moan  
  
in pleasure, loving her with every touch as his lips told her how  
  
much he loved her, loved him. Still wanting to come for her, but  
  
Angelus wouldn't let him. All the boy's offerings were for him and  
  
him alone. Drusilla understood and would pull back, leaving the boy  
  
all wet and waiting. So William would beg him for it, offering his  
  
ass, his mouth, whatever his sire desired, anything just to get  
  
release.  
  
And still he'd sing his mother's lullaby. Angelus had seen him wipe  
  
away tears for her loss. It disgusted him and he'd lashed out at  
  
him, making him pay for every last drop. Humans were cattle and the  
  
sooner the fledgling understood, the sooner he'd break. The sooner...  
  
He left him there, fallen in the middle of the hall, under the eyes  
  
of his sire and the minions, leaving him to the mercy of any that  
  
dared to go for him. No, not yet, it was too early in the game to  
  
break him now, but soon, all too soon. Oh, William tried. By God he  
  
tried, littering the streets with the blood and gore of his victims,  
  
forcing railroad spikes through his former friend's heads just to  
  
show how little he cared, how much he'd changed.  
  
"The name's Spike." He'd repeat, over and over again.  
  
But Angelus knew better, he knew the truth that William was just  
  
hiding and inside Angelus roared in laughter at the boys attempts to  
  
gain his approval, to prove his worth.  
  
And as the boy's final failure came, and his lack of artistry had  
  
them hunted out of town, hiding in a mine, inside his mood raged  
  
between sheer pleasure and rage, knowing what the boy failed to  
  
understand. It wasn't about fighting, it was about power; it wasn't  
  
about the killing, or the hurt, it was about the kill. The how as  
  
important as the act itself. So, of course, the fool decided to hunt  
  
the Slayer. Yet another ray of light to keep him from. Not that  
  
Angelus would let the game end that fast. Letting him die now was  
  
not in the cards, not by anyone's hand but his own. So he pushed him  
  
against the wall, taking him, offering the young one's blood to his  
  
sire before they fucked over his bleeding body.  
  
*******  
  
The bottle hit the wall and Angel's senses rebelled at the sharp  
  
aroma of the whiskey going to waste as it blotched the wallpaper and  
  
chipped the wall. Spike was a vampire, had been a vampire at least.  
  
There was plenty of guilt for the humans to go around without having  
  
to add his misbegotten offspring to the list. William had died under  
  
Drusilla's fangs, and anything he'd done to William's corpse, to  
  
Spike...  
  
Yet every kill, every drop of blood spilled by those he'd created  
  
was blood spilled by him, for without him they wouldn't have  
  
existed. William especially had done it all for him. Rebelling,  
  
seeking approval... all for him. To him and to himself. Yet  
  
underneath it all that hunger remained, that look for death, never  
  
broken. He'd found it now, his sweet, annoying pain-in-the-ass of a  
  
boy. A goal for so long that now the boy had found it, it was hard  
  
not to envy him for it. His rest.  
  
Part of Angelus raged inside of him, at the thought that William had  
  
slipped away from him. He'd raged when William sat in that chair, so  
  
helpless. Refusing to acknowledge him, knowing the boy would break  
  
too soon. Seducing Drusilla, angering him, yet another of their  
  
games. He'd roared when William had crawled to him, so submissive  
  
after the chip.  
  
And Angel had sent him away, tried to get rid of him. Because he  
  
knew the boy would have broken and to break him then would have  
  
ended it. The part of him that had still been Angelus had been  
  
insulted at even the thought of abusing that moment.  
  
"Angel. Angel we need your help."  
  
No you don't, but you come for it anyway.  
  
"People are going crazy Angel."  
  
He wouldn't face him, wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't...  
  
"Yesterday a class from Hemery High went to the railway museum. One  
  
of the kids got his hand on a railroad spike and drove it through  
  
his best friend's head. He couldn't get it through the skull, but  
  
the boy is in intensive care now. They don't even know if he'll make  
  
it till tomorrow."  
  
Not enough, it hadn't been enough. He had to drink more, block it  
  
all out, once and for all.  
  
"Another..."  
  
"Don't!"  
  
"We have to stop it Angel. You were right, there's a demon  
  
involved. And it's our job."  
  
"Don't tell me what our job is, Wesley!!!" I know, know it all.  
  
"Is that why you've been hiding yourself in the Hyperion? Doing  
  
what? Wallowing? Don't you see, Angel? It's only getting worse."  
  
But he was trying. Trying so hard to make it stop, to stop  
  
remembering. Did they think he wanted this? Did they think he wanted  
  
to remember the beautiful marks on Spike's skin, those gorgeous  
  
bruises on pure, pale flesh? That blood tasting... more alive than a  
  
dead corpse had the right to taste. Did they really think he wanted  
  
to remember the most irritating fledge he'd ever had the misfortune  
  
to be annoyed by? Even if they were right.  
  
"How... how do we find it?"  
  
"A ritual. To lure it to us."  
  
Angel barely listened as Wesley started to explain about all the  
  
needed chants and herbs... Not even sure if he wanted it to stop.  
  
William's skin had felt so soft...  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Wesley had cajoled him, he'd shown him the facts, he'd insulted him, called him a coward, yelled at him about the people suffering. In the end the former watcher had practically hit him on the head with a skillet just to get him out of his brood.  
  
So now he sat here, watching as Wesley drew a circle around them both, chanting as the air filled with smoke from a stone receptacle standing between them. What had looked like chalk ended up smelling like a week old corpse hidden in the back of the larder.  
  
"Angel... concentrate."  
  
And he tried, he tried to clear his mind. It was almost working, it would have. Of course at that point the doors of the hall opened, the smoke was pulled out and in between it Angel saw the last two people he'd expected to see.  
  
He scrambled up, utterly embarrassed about having to face her like this. Half-naked; his chest covered in smelly markings and herbs. His hair clingy from the herbs Wesley had been burning.  
  
He cringed as she moved her hand to her nose, clamping it shut, and moving her other hand as if trying to get the scent out of the way like a clutter of cigarette smoke. "God, what won't this man do to save lives?" He smiled at Buffy's words, at the snicker in her voice. What didn't they all do?  
  
God, he had to clean up.  
  
"Angel!"  
  
"We'll finish it I swear... I just."  
  
"Go wash, save us all." Angel was wondering how much of this had been necessity and how much of it had been punishment for resisting too long. "But we will have to go through it again when you're ready. If that demon keeps spreading your memories..."  
  
"Demon?"  
  
"So sorry, Mr. Giles. I forgot to mention the full facts on the phone. We seem to be dealing with a Nagotti. He's been feeding on Angel's memories, making people recreate events from the past. Often with nefarious results."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Nagotti? I thought they only fed on the memories of the mourning." Giles seemed honestly baffled by even the notion.  
  
The mourning; as in a vampire mourning over his lost offspring, his golden boy. Buffy got it though, taking his hand, sharing an understanding between them. "Will there be...?"  
  
"Nagotti tend to focus on their victim of choice. They don't tend to expand beyond that."  
  
Vampires didn't feel cold, they weren't affected by temperature changes. So why did he feel the need to cross his arms and cuddle himself to hold of the cold?  
  
******  
  
"Sit here, William, just there."  
  
William grumbled but Angelus knew he'd do it anyway. He took the book and started sketching the edges. Lines hard as stone, cheekbones, legs, arms, eyes. It didn't take long, but he didn't tell the boy that. His eyes merely glared as the fledgling tried to move out of position. So hard to keep him in line, but Angelus knew he'd listen. Even now.  
  
William would do anything for him. And that's the way it was supposed to be, the way he was supposed to submit, so why did he want the boy to speak back instead of whisper requests. Why did he enjoy the very things that he wasn't supposed to be?  
  
"Can I go sire? Please?" He hated it, the disrespect in that, not begging, merely requesting, hoping for something from him, something that he couldn't grasp.  
  
"No." Short and harsh and still the boy stayed put, his feet starting to fidget. His naked skin glistening in the moonlight overflowing the terrace.  
  
Nails, hair, skin, it all became clear on the page. His, all of it.  
  
Something was missing. Something.  
  
And his hand went loose on the sketch, drawing marks, drawing blood, imagining what William would look like beaten, whipped. How his eyes would swell and the skin around his eyes would color blue. He could almost taste it in the air. How the boy would say "I love you" and how that would anger him, enough to whip him dry, drain him, taste him.  
  
God, he wished the boy would say it.  
  
*******  
  
He opened his eyes, staring at the sketchbook in Wesley's hands, at the drawing of Giles in it. Angel took a double take at how accurate it was. And he had no intention to ever admit to anyone how much he'd enjoyed playing with Giles a few years ago. A sentiment that the watcher was sure to agree with.  
  
"Ew, yuck, my eyes! I'm blind!"  
  
Giles turned to Buffy, first embarrassed and then flinching at Buffy's words. Though his feelings on seeing the picture of him beaten and most of all naked... Giles grabbed the sketchbook, taking the drawing and crumbling it, as if he were fighting between the choice to shred it or not.  
  
"The Nagotti is still here. Angel get back in the circle, we have to do the ritual now." Angel obeyed Wesley's command, fighting the urge to pinch his nose shut as the former watcher made sure the markings were in order. Buffy was sitting in a corner watching as Wesley repeated the words of the ritual.  
  
"Da ke ril ma ei sivade and berolu."  
  
Angel lost track of the words, trying to focus to stare at the mist in front of him. A form appeared in front of him and he could see the demon start to take shape. Spike's shape. Almost ghostlike, intangible. Angel could feel Buffy getting up, staring at them. Angel tried to touch out to the fog but the shape almost disappeared.  
  
"Traitor, betrayer..." he could hear the words echo "abandoner, hate." Angel tried to keep it in. Tried so hard.  
  
//"Sire please, I need your help." Spike was on his knees, begging. "I can't kill, can't feed, can hardly even hit anymore."  
  
"And why should I do anything but rejoice at this?"  
  
"You're my sire Angelus. Everything I am is because of you."  
  
"So?"  
  
"You used to..."  
  
"I never loved you Spike. Never. I'm not Angelus. Now get out of my sight."//  
  
And Angel could hear his harsh words repeat themselves in his ears. Could see his boy's eyes begging him for help. But he'd refused, thrown him away. He didn't belong in this new life of his, with his friends and his cause. He had no time for his mistakes.  
  
//Go to Buffy for all I care. At least she'll make it fast.//  
  
He'd never expected the boy to actually do what he'd told him too. But he had, he always had... And Buffy had done what he never had. She'd taken him in, she'd done what a sire should have done. And in the end she'd loved him. She'd been his sire, his new sire, and he'd loved her for it. And Angel had lost the boy forever.  
  
He grabbed through the fog, grabbing the demon by the neck, desperate to ignore everything around him.  
  
"No please. I beg you." The thing was still wearing Spike's face.  
  
Stop it, he wanted to say, drop the face, show yourself and he pushed even harder until the demon had no choice left.  
  
"I was just giving you a gift, O vampire. Just a gift, showing you, showing."  
  
Angel hissed in response. "Your gift could have gotten people killed."  
  
"They're only human, vampire. Why should you care?"  
  
"I have a soul."  
  
"Like your boy did when the Watcher tried." The demon took one glance at Giles and shut up, Angel let his grip loosen for just a second and the demon faded into fog.  
  
Angel just stood there, staring at where the demon had been mere moments before. Hours seemed to pass as he slowly turned to Giles. The Watcher stared at him in fear, his mouth wide open. He knew what the demon had been talking about. What.?  
  
"When the Watcher tried what?"  
  
Chapter 6  
  
"Angel don't... We already dealt with it."  
  
He stopped, staring at Buffy. She knew what this was about. She knew  
  
and it was obvious she was scared. But of what? Of the truth, of  
  
what he might do to Giles? Or maybe just...  
  
What had Giles done?  
  
He barely even realized that he was still holding the watcher's arm,  
  
pulling him closer. He barely noticed that he was growling, yet  
  
still Buffy didn't pull him back, her eyes simply begging him to let  
  
go. "What did he do Buffy? Tell me."  
  
"I betrayed Buffy and helped the son of one of Spike's victims."  
  
Angel stared at Giles, at the cold guiltless tone in the Watcher's  
  
voice. "Helped? How?"  
  
"Robin." Angel turned to Buffy once more. "His mother was one of the  
  
Slayers that Spike killed. He tried to murder Spike." Buffy seemed  
  
to try and be calm about it, but it was clear that her own anger on  
  
the matter was still running hot. "You have to believe me Angel, I  
  
didn't know a thing about it. Giles lured me away while he let ...  
  
while..."  
  
Angel let go, still staring at the watcher. How could the man still  
  
be so sure of his right, even after Spike had given his life to save  
  
the world? When would it ever enough? "Why?"  
  
"Spike was a threat. He had a trigger..."  
  
"We were already working on that." Buffy interrupted before Angel  
  
could even say a word. "Giles, I love you, but Spike got over the  
  
trigger, he didn't even kill Robin after Robin lured him in a room  
  
full of crosses, even after Robin tried to activate the trigger,  
  
even after Robin tried to murder him... How can you still think that  
  
was right?"  
  
"Buffy..." Giles seemed to be considering what to say. "I know you  
  
had feelings for him. I know...they were, are..."  
  
"Obscuring my judgement? Making me see him the wrong way? Giles, I  
  
was right about him. I said he could be a good man, and he was. Why  
  
can't you just admit you were wrong and for once in your life be  
  
sorry that you tried to have an innocent man murdered for something  
  
he did without a soul?"  
  
"Mister Giles?"  
  
Angel just stood there, staring at the Watcher, unable to move.  
  
Images flashed through his mind, killing Jenny, laying her body just  
  
right so that when Giles found her, it would be as hurtful as  
  
possible. Killing her, draining her, considering to turn her but not  
  
doing it because... because...  
  
Wesley was now targeting the watcher and Buffy... throwing questions  
  
at him about the soul, about the why, but Angel barely heard them.  
  
All he could see was his guilt and full understanding hitting him.  
  
"Spike didn't kill Jenny, Giles. I did. That's what this is, isn't  
  
it? Revenge on me?"  
  
They all turned to him, stunned.  
  
Angel righted himself, fully facing the Watcher. "He loved Buffy, I  
  
loved Buffy, she loved me back, and couldn't kill me when she had  
  
to. And I killed Jenny. If you still hate me so much for that, then  
  
why didn't you take it out on me? Spike wasn't me, Giles. He was...  
  
He was..." Angel still just stood there, not sure how to continue.  
  
Then he shocked all by throwing his fist against the watcher's nose.  
  
He barely realized what he was doing, right in time to at least  
  
avoid breaking the watcher's nose. "Why can't you see that he wasn't  
  
me?"  
  
******  
  
His hand was dripping as he watched them, sharing Valentine gifts  
  
like humans. She'd pushed his worthless carcass into the room and  
  
he'd pulled it out. The jewelry case was scentless, so not even  
  
something bloody inside of it.  
  
"Fancy it, pet?" Gall rose in his throat at the caring behind  
  
Spike's words. So hopeful, so... waiting... Drusilla was just  
  
playing along with the game. Liking to be showered with gifts like a  
  
little girl, playing with her toy till daddy took it away from  
  
her. "Nothing but the best for my gir--"  
  
Angelus grabbed that moment to walk up to the table, throwing down a  
  
human heart, fresh and bloody. "Happy Valentine's Day, Dru." And he  
  
could smell her arousal at the sweet scent of carnage at the thought  
  
of the fear in the girl's heart right before he'd plunged his claws  
  
in her chest. The fear still stuck in the blood that had been  
  
pumping through it. He arched his eyebrows at Spike, feeling the  
  
hope shatter in his boy's heart as he knew he could never be enough  
  
for Dru, never be cruel enough, never be dark enough. It brought a  
  
dark pleasure to his dead flesh.  
  
"It's still warm." He smiled at her, glorying in the pleasure of  
  
sending the rage in Spike as he closed his eyes and let out a deep  
  
breath before looking back up at him. "I knew you'd like it. I found  
  
it in a quaint little shop-girl." Then, before Spike could stop him,  
  
he went for the necklace, picking it up and placing it around  
  
Drusilla's neck. Letting her push herself to him, touching her,  
  
rubbing against her more than he had to. She pulled her hair back  
  
and away so he could close the clasp behind her neck. Spike tried to  
  
wheel towards them, trying to stop him from taking away the gift.  
  
But Angelus merely gave him a cruel grin, finishing the job. "Done.  
  
I know Dru gives you pity access," he leaned over him, placing his  
  
hand on his boy's knees, feeling the dead flesh under his  
  
fingers. "But you have to admit: it's so much easier when I do  
  
things for her."  
  
*****  
  
"Spike... Giles you know how vampires are created. You're a watcher,  
  
you of all people should know..."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"What would you call someone who's been turned, against their  
  
wishes, without knowing what they were going into, would you blame  
  
them for being turned?"  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"A 120 years ago, William was a victim; a young man who made the  
  
mistake of running into the wrong group. Dru said she'd sire the  
  
fairest knight of the land... Darla told her to just turn the first  
  
idiot she ran across. I'm still not sure which of them two was  
  
right."  
  
"So?" Giles was crossing his arms still not getting it.  
  
"You're so busy being angry at me, you're forgetting that Spike  
  
isn't me. He was as much my victim as Jenny was."  
  
*******  
  
Angelus felt the boy before he saw him, wheeling in, staring at him  
  
and Dru. He pretended not to notice, pulling Drusilla just that  
  
little bit closer, softly biting in her skin, tasting her.  
  
The boy's eyes were still on him; he could feel it. So he kissed  
  
Drusilla, trailing the veins. She moaned softly as he kneaded her  
  
flesh, pinching it, forcing her down beneath him, pounding into her,  
  
letting William hear her moan and sputter, hear her scream as he  
  
just sat there, unable to stop them, unable to do anything but sit  
  
there.  
  
Finally the boy grabbed the wheels of his chair and rolled out of  
  
the room. Defeated.  
  
Angelus got on top of her, finishing what he'd started, letting her  
  
feel him. She moaned again. "Spike!"  
  
*******  
  
Giles stared at him with wide-open eyes. "You didn't really think we  
  
were a happy family did you?"  
  
Angel didn't even have to touch him, he just turned his back on the  
  
man as he went to his office. "By the way, Spike was the first to  
  
tell me off after killing Jenny. Killing her, especially the way I  
  
did it. it was something Spike himself would have never even  
  
considered doing. Not his style." He turned back one last time. "And  
  
do you know why I did it?"  
  
Giles just stood there silent.  
  
"Because she was going to resoul me and Angelus, I. I never would  
  
have allowed that to happen as long as I had the chance to stop it."  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Title: Lost Chance  
  
Author: Lore  
  
Rating:NC17 (slash)  
  
Summary: Angel ponders on Spike and lost opportunities after Chosen  
  
Disclaimer:I don't own, please don't sue (not that I have anything  
  
to take, and you can't have my dogs anyway so...)  
  
Notes: just a thought on Angel's reaction to Spike's death  
  
Warning: many Angelus/William flashbacks and consequences of those,  
  
and considering they're both vampires... thus not suited for kiddie-  
  
eyes(or to put it more clearly, rape, abuse bla bla bla...)  
  
He'd been able to hear the music from the hallway, Spike was wearing  
  
headphones and still the music was loud enough to burst eardrums..  
  
Spike lay crawled up to the middle of the bed, his dead legs pulled  
  
up behind him. Angelus waited a second for him to respond, but the  
  
boy was simply ignoring him. He kicked the wheelchair up against the  
  
wall, smashing it. Bending one of the wheels. Spike finally turned to  
  
him, halfheartedly dropping the magazine in his hands.  
  
"What do you want now?"  
  
Angelus didn't bother with explanations. He marched up to the bed and  
  
grabbed the boy's arm, twisting him around. Spike tried to fight him,  
  
but couldn't find a hold as he desperately tried to stay up. He  
  
didn't need to say a word, he merely opened his zipper and grabbed  
  
the boy's hair. If he'd gotten that good, then he might as well make  
  
himself useful and prove it. The boy fought to keep his teeth  
  
together, but Angelus hit his head till he opened up. Once there,  
  
Angelus knew that the boy would do what he wanted. He could feel the  
  
well trained tongue lick him hard. Up, down, around.  
  
So good.  
  
Finally he pulled out, the boy looked at him. Searching for approval,  
  
when he didn't find it he scowled, trying to keep his pride. Angelus  
  
still didn't say a word, not letting Spike get a word in either. He  
  
threw the boy over the bed, his face down. Spike tried to make a grab  
  
for him as he pulled down the boy's pants; Angelus merely hit him  
  
again till he stayed quiet. Spike didn't even moan; he was quieter  
  
than one of those blow up dolls they sold over on Hermington lane.  
  
Angelus didn't mind. Well, not really. He'd always wanted the brat to  
  
shut up, good that at least for once he was obedient. Too obedient.  
  
Spike was still lying there when he pulled out. He didn't bother to  
  
clean him up or dress him again. Let Dru do it, or one of the minions.  
  
Spike was screaming his name now.  
  
He smiled.  
  
*******  
  
Angel broke free of the memories to be overwhelmed by the scent of  
  
sex filling the room. Scared to turn around, he did anyway, finding  
  
Wesley behind him. A Wesley prostrated over the desk, a Wesley now  
  
rubbing his legs as if grateful to feel them again. A Wesley in pain.  
  
His pants hanging off, he was bleeding.  
  
Angel couldn't even look away and Wesley seemed unable to move until  
  
Angel helped him up. Oh god what had he done?  
  
Wesley forced himself up from the desk, a bit too dazed to respond,  
  
staring at him. Angel made a move to run for it again.  
  
"Angel, please stop."  
  
He stopped.  
  
"Running from this isn't going to help."  
  
The watcher seemed to try and compose himself, pulling his pants back  
  
up with one hand, fixing his glasses with the other.  
  
And Angel stood frozen as nailed to the floor.  
  
"I raped him Wes. And now I raped you."  
  
"That wasn't... God Angel, you said it yourself, those are  
  
possessions, possessions by memories, memories of things Angelus did,  
  
not you. Never you."  
  
"But it was."  
  
Don't you see Wesley? That's the whole point of it. Angelus, him,  
  
it's the same thing, the same monster and if he stay, if he didn't  
  
stop it, then sooner or later he was going to kill someone. It's not  
  
as if a human could survive the things he'd done to Spike...  
  
"Your soul..."  
  
"It won't stop me."  
  
He knew he had to go.  
  
"There's a way to end this."  
  
He stopped.  
  
"I didn't dare try it before, but since... since we've already..."  
  
Angel almost smiled at the blush on Wesley's face, he could have, if  
  
the reason hadn't been...  
  
"The only way to stop the demon, to end it for you and everyone  
  
around you, is to live through it once and for all. To deal with the  
  
memories and put them to rest."  
  
"You can't possibly..."  
  
"I can and I will. Who else could you ask? Buffy?"  
  
And Angel knew he was trapped. He flinched as Wesley touched his  
  
chest, urging him to take it off again.  
  
******  
  
He could feel him before he even saw him. A silent vigil in the  
  
night, sitting on top of the wall surrounding the cemetery. The boy  
  
smelled of salt, of tears and Angel knew he had to ignore him. He  
  
knew he couldn't, shouldn't give a damn and just be glad that he  
  
didn't have to stake his boy. Not tonight, not anytime soon thank god.  
  
He turned his back. He had, he'd left in the car, leaving the boy  
  
behind as if he'd never even seen him, as if he weren't a part of him  
  
no matter where he went and that had been it, their last meeting.  
  
He stopped.  
  
"I'm sorry." he said and that's when it went freaky.  
  
All of a sudden they were near the Thames, with Spike looking like a  
  
drowned cat.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Then they were in the manor, Spike hanging from the chains,  
  
whispering "I love you"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Angel kept trying to apologize but the scenes kept twisting before he  
  
could even know that Spike had heard him. The memories kept coming,  
  
over and over again.  
  
Sorry sorry, like a chant, ringing through his ears.  
  
Suddenly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Angel sat in total darkness, staring at the light shining from his  
  
bright brilliant boy.  
  
"Cause I did. I did love you. And I never got to tell you."  
  
The boy just smiled at him and he could feel the earth fade  
  
underneath his feet.  
  
"No you don't, but thanks for saying it."  
  
And Spike slowly dusted in front of him, all the time he kept  
  
laughing as he went, laughing through it all.  
  
Angel fell, desperate to reach out to him. And for once he let the  
  
tears free that had been coursing through him.  
  
Wesley looked up at him, bruised, bloodied, but still holding on to  
  
him. And for a moment, just a moment he could almost see Spike's eyes  
  
twinkling behind Wesley's.  
  
"But I did mean it you big moron. I did."  
  
And he grabbed Wesley's lips and through Wesley that fading memory of  
  
Spike responded.  
  
Wesley's eyes, Spike's eyes...  
  
And as the demon appeared before him, daring to bare Spike's face,  
  
Angel kicked around, hitting it before it could disappear in a twist  
  
of fog.  
  
"I'm sorry Spike." he whispered to the image before dispersing the  
  
smoke once and for all.  
  
It was over and he was still crying.  
  
Epilogue  
  
Buffy hugged him one last time before heading for the door. Her sweet  
  
innocent eyes looked at him and he wondered how she could possibly  
  
ever understand. She didn't know what it was like to beat up someone  
  
till they bled, to voice your anger at the world and force it on  
  
someone who just wanted to help. Who was too innocent, to much a  
  
victim of love to stop you. And to know you've lost your chance to  
  
change it.  
  
They hugged, they promised to call one another whenever the other  
  
needed help. They touched one last time, neither of them daring for  
  
more. Then she left for the door and to the car. Giles was carrying  
  
his books, getting ready to leave as well. Angel grabbed his arm. "I  
  
won't ever forget what you did." He hissed.  
  
The watcher stared at him. "Neither will I." He answered, utterly  
  
defiant.  
  
Angel ignored the offers of help from his friends, he ignored their  
  
questions, their comfort. He just moved upstairs, heading up to his  
  
room. Hesitating for just a moment before opening the door.  
  
A small form lay huddled on the carpet beside the bed. He ran up,  
  
reached out for it, turned it around.  
  
"Spike."  
  
finis 


End file.
